


Let's Get Fucked Up and Die

by haemophilus



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Class Differences, Crimes And Criminals, Gen, Major character death - Freeform, Murder, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Road Trip, Theft, Thelma and Louise, gratuitous 90s and 2000s references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemophilus/pseuds/haemophilus
Summary: The Gang Does Thelma and Louise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding Mac & Dennis Reynolds - there is going to be some Mac/Dennis sex as there will be a plot point where Mac is a prostitute. This will be pretty much a business transaction. I am not sure if it will be porn yet. This is primarily a Charlie + Mac and a Dennis + Dee gen fic. But if you're REALLY against Mac/Dennis in your fic. . .there's an element of it in here.

“It’s weird to be going to the shore without mom and dad,” said Dee as she closed the hatch of Dennis’s Range Rover. “I’m not used to the only asshole in sight being you.”

“Don’t try me, Dee. I have a girl on standby who would love to spend all weekend being fucked in a house on the shore,” said Dennis. He turned up the music - a Bryan Adams cassette tape - and tapped his fingers on the dashboard.

“Tiffany dumped you two days ago. What girl do you have that has had the time to convince herself you don’t seem rapey with the lights off?” said Dee.

Dennis steeled his jaw. “I have tons of girls I could get back any time I wanted.”

“Try me,” said Dee. She climbed into the front seat of the car, and buckled her seatbelt.

“Chelsea,” said Dennis.

Dee frowned, trying to remember her face.

“Hot psych major. Redhead,” said Dennis.

“Oh!” said Dee, suddenly remembering. “Good luck with that one. She’s married.”

“Why is that relevant?” said Dennis.

“A married woman isn’t going to come to the shore with her creepy ex-boyfriend,” said Dee. “Besides, she hates your guts.”

Dennis quirked a smile. “She’s still in my roster, then. Lovers scorned have a tendency to return.”

Dee rolled her eyes, and opened her purse. She pulled out a Britney Spears cassette tape. Then, she hit eject on the cassette player, took out the Bryan Adams cassette, and stuck in her own.

“Hey!” cried Dennis. “Put that back!”

In response, she turned up the volume.

 _“Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know? That something wasn’t right here?”_ sang Dee. “C’mon. I know you love this one.”

“I always listen to Bryan Adams on road trips,” he whined. Dee turned up the music even louder.

_“My loneliness is killing me and I - I must confess I still believe. Still believe!”_

The call of the music became too powerful for Dennis to resist.

 _“When I’m not with you, I lose my mind,”_ he sang as he put the car into drive. _“Gimme a sign!”_

Together they sang, _“Hit me baby one more time!”_

________

“Oh shit. A gas station is coming up soon. I gotta take a whiz,” said Dee.

“We’ve only been driving for fifteen minutes!” exclaimed Dennis.

Dee shook her head. “It’s gonna happen whether you pull over or not. Do you want me to piss in the Rover? Your pride and joy?”

“Goddammit, Dee,” said Dennis. He crossed over into the turning lane from the center. Several cars honked at him – assholes.

He parked in the lot, and unlocked the door.

“Thanks,” said Dee, in a pained voice.

“Just hurry up!” said Dennis. He sighed, and got out of the car as well. Might as well take a piss too since they were already here.

________

Dennis wasn’t in or around the Rover when Dee got back outside. She decided to pull some beers out of the back cooler while she waited. The Rover was locked, of course, but the back hatch had a design flaw that made it easy to jiggle it open if you knew how. Dee had it open in no time.

Goddammit, they had packed way too much shit. The cooler was buried under a mountain of Dennis and Dee’s clothes and accessories. Thankfully, it didn’t all topple on her when she pulled the cooler out from underneath all of the other stuff. Dee pulled out three beers, and put them on the ground.

Getting the cooler back into its spot wasn’t as easy as getting it out. It was stuck on something, and Dee couldn’t figure out how to get around it. She felt along the car’s floor with her hands until she found the protrusion, and pulled on it. It opened into a little compartment. Dee put her hand inside, and touched cool metal. Her heart pounded as she grabbed onto it, and pulled it out of the compartment.

The hand gun was black and sleek. It was compact but dense; Dee wasn’t sure how to tell whether or not it was loaded. She pulled at the butt of the gun like she had seen in movies, but nothing came loose.

“Dee? What the hell are you doing?” exclaimed Dennis. He ran over to her, and wrested the gun out of her hand.

“What the hell am _I_ doing? What the hell are _you_ doing with a random gun in the back of your car?” said Dee.

“Lots of people have guns, Dee!” he said, putting the gun back into his compartment. “A lot fewer people find guns and then play with them in a parking lot.”

“I was trying to see if it was loaded!” said Dee.

“It is,” said Dennis. He shoved the cooler back into its spot, and slammed the back door shut. “Get back in the car.”

Dee picked up her beers, and followed him back into the Rover. After she bucked up, she cracked one of them open, and chugged half. Then, she let out a huge belch.

“Oh, goddammit, Dee. Do you have to be gross?” he said as he turned on the ignition. Dee belched again, and leaned back into her seat.

“Yes,” she said. Then she took another sip of her beer. “So, really, what’s with the gun?’

Dennis gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Just move past it.”

“It’s a pretty hard thing to move past,” said Dee. “I mean, I always knew you were a psycho, but –”

Dennis turned up the music louder.

“Move past it.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was late when they pulled into Atlantic City. Dee hunched down into her seat as they drove through a neighborhood of dilapidated apartments.

“Was it really necessary to avoid the AC Expressway? I mean, Jesus, this is the ghetto,” she said.

“Don’t be racist, Dee,” said Dennis. “I chose this way because it’s the scenic route. Not my fault you can’t appreciate the local culture.”

“You took this way because you wanted to avoid a couple of tolls,” said Dee.

“You’ll be grateful when there’s more money for shots,” said Dennis.

Dee sighed, and looked out the window. Drunk youths were stumbling around on the sidewalks. Their heads were thrown back in laughter. The apartments around them gradually became nicer and nicer. She breathed a sigh of relief – they were getting into the better part of town.

“Where are all these people getting wasted?” she said. “I want to go there.”

Dennis slowed down to a crawl so that he could look for bars.

“I think they’re coming from over there,” he said, pointing to a brick building a few blocks away. “Looks kinda shady though.”

“I don’t give a shit. Anywhere I can get wasted is heaven,” said Dee.

“Can’t believe we forgot to pack liquor,” said Dennis.

Dee laughed. “I can’t believe you thought a sixer would even last the afternoon.”

“The parkway is boring as shit when you’re not tipsy,” said Dennis. He pulled into the parking lot, and parked the Rover. Dee stretched her arms and legs. She slid her shoes back on, and picked her purse up off the floor.

“Just so you know, if you leave me behind to fuck some gross girl, I’ll stab both of you in your sleep with a high heel,” she said.

“I don’t know where you’d ever get the idea that I’d do that,” said Dennis.

Dee opened the car door. “My entire life. Open up the trunk.”

“Why?” said Dennis. Dee slung her purse over her shoulder, and shut the car door.

“If you leave me behind, I want to have the gun.”

________

The inside of the bar was a dump. All of the bartenders were middle-aged and fat. Their patrons weren’t much better; it was an even split among under-21s and over-50s. Dee sighed as she sipped a margarita. Hopefully, someone packing beef would come in soon.

Dennis had already found his prey. She was obviously under drinking age, and looked like she might be under eighteen as well. He had her backed to the wall, hand pressed against it on one side. A lot of girls seemed to think that position was sexy. Dee knew better; Dennis was being intimidating. Hopefully the girl would be too stupid to catch on that he was a creep, and they wouldn’t get thrown out before last call.

She looked around the bar again, lowering her standards a little. Some of the older men weren’t too bad looking. Dee locked eyes with a fit guy in his forties, and smiled. He walked over to where he was sitting.

“Mind if I buy you a drink?” he said. Dee touched his hand.

“I’d love that.”

Before long, Dee was drunk. She and her man, Jim, were slow dancing. Dee had an arm wrapped around his neck. They were kissing, heavy and full of tongue. He snaked his arm around her waist.

“Wanna get some fresh air, big boy?” she said in a sultry voice.

“You bet, darling,” he said.

She led him by the hand out of the bar. Before she left, she looked over at Dennis, and grinned.

Looked like the spider had caught herself a fly.

________

“It’s pretty brave of you to come in with a fake ID,” said Dennis, inspecting it. The girl, Jenny, giggled and twirled her hair.

“Thanks. Don’t tell anyone, but it’s a picture of my sister. The bartender has really bad eyesight,” she said.

“It must be really bad if he can’t see that you’re clearly much prettier than she is,” said Dennis. Jenny blushed. He handed her license back. “So, really, how old are you?”

“Twenty,” she said.

“Wow,” said Dennis, relieved. “I didn’t expect that.”

Jenny frowned. “I know. Everyone tells me I look like I’m about fifteen years old –”

“Actually, I thought you looked a little older than you are,” Dennis lied. “At least my age – 23.”

“I wish,” said Jenny. She tucked her hand into the back of his pants. Her lips met his; they were sticky with gloss. Dennis wrapped an arm around her waist, and slid his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like beer. After a while, Jenny pulled away.

“Wanna go outside for a smoke?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” said Dennis.

________

“It’s a good thing we got out here before my stupid brother did,” said Dee. She leaned against the bar, and sighed. “That’s his car over there. He likes to leave without me.”

Jim took a draw on his cigarette, and exhaled in rings.

“Sounds like a real piece of shit,” he said.

“Yeah, he is,” said Dee. “He was the guy in the corner of the bar hitting on that young girl.”

The man made a disgusted face. “The one who looked fifteen?”

“Yep,” said Dee. The man smoked his cigarette again. He waved the smoke away from Dee’s face.

“What a creep,” he said.

“Definitely. But enough talking about him,” she said, taking the cigarette out of his hand with a sultry grin. She threw it onto the ground, and stepped on it with her heel. Dee grabbed onto his collar. “Let’s use our lips for something better.”

________

Dennis had his hand up Jenny’s shirt when he heard commotion several feet away.

“You’ve been leading me on all night,” his sister said, sounding drunk. “I know you want me.”

“I don’t want to fuck you in an alleyway!” said the man.

“I dunno. It seems like your dick is saying otherwise,” said Dee.

“Get your hands out of my pants, you crazy bitch!” shouted the man. Dee shrieked; Dennis heard her fall to the ground. Jenny pulled away, wide eyed and tense. Goddammit, Dee.

“Should we do something?” asked Jenny.

“I’m sure it will sort itself out,” said Dennis. He grabbed onto her wrist with his other hand, and gently pushed her more tightly against the wall. Then, he began to kiss her neck. Jenny squirmed.

“No, I really want to see what’s going on,” she said. “Get off me!”

Heavy footsteps echoed behind him.

“Jesus Christ!” said a man. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Before Dennis knew what was happening, the man grabbed onto his shoulders, and yanked him away from Jenny. Dennis fell to the ground; it hurt like a bitch.

“Are you ok?” he asked Jenny. She nodded.

“Of course she’s fine,” said Dennis, wincing with pain. “She was never in any danger!”

The man looked at Dennis furiously.

“Your family is messed up. I’m calling the cops.”

“Don’t do that!” cried Dennis. “I didn’t do anything.”

He dug around in his pockets, ignoring Dennis. “Goddammit. Nothing.” He looked over at Jenny. “Sweetie, do you have any–”

“You bastard!” shouted Dee. “You sack of shit!”

The man was knocked to the ground with three gunshot wounds to the head. Dennis’s eyes widened.

“Dee, what the hell –”

“Shut up!” she said, her voice sounding raw. “Hey bitch, did you see anything?”

Instead of answering, Jenny tried to run. It didn’t work; three more shots, and Jenny was dead. Dee turned the gun on Dennis.

“Are you gonna talk?” she growled.

“What? Why the hell would I?” he said.

“Because you’re a snake!”

“I know!” said Dennis. “I have too many warrants out for my arrest. I couldn’t call the cops even if I wanted to.”

Dee lowered her gun, fury leaving her face.

“I forgot,” said Dee. Her eyes grew wide with fear. “Oh shit. The police are going to be here any minute, aren’t they?”

Dennis got up off the ground. “Well, you just killed two people, so that answer is yes.”

Dee looked at the gun in her hand. 

“Fuck. You’re right. I just killed two people.” She looked up at Dennis. “What do we do?”

“Well first, you give me the gun since you clearly can’t be responsible with it,” said Dennis. “And second – we run.”


	3. Chapter 3

“How much longer do we have in this motel room?” said Charlie, yawning. He was draped over Mac in the small bed. It was eleven in the morning: almost checkout time.

“Only an hour left,” groaned Mac. He wasn’t ready to be out on the streets again. Thank god the lemon truck they had gotten from the side of the road had only needed a few repairs to function. Charlie had fixed it up with duct tape and intuition. It wasn’t a good home, but it kept them warm and dry during times of little cash flow.

Charlie groaned. “It sucks so hard that this room is so expensive.”

“I know,” said Mac. “$50 a night is ridiculous. What am I, a millionaire?”

“I’m glad we stuck it to em by wrecking the room,” said Charlie.

They really had done a number on it. Beer bottles were strewn everywhere. The curtains were torn off the windows due to a bet where they weren’t sure if they could actually come down. Ants were congregated around dozens of food wrappers. The stench of paint and glue hung in the air. All of the tables in the room were scratched up from opening beer bottles against them. There was broken glass on the floor - remnants of a fight. The bathroom door was closed, but Mac knew that the bathtub was caked with dirt.

“How much cash do we have left?” said Charlie.

“Thirty-five dollars,” said Mac. “But after we eat and get gas. . .probably fifteen dollars.”

“Enough for beer?” said Charlie.

“Two sixers,” said Mac. 

“Awesome.” Charlie closed his eyes again. Mac pushed him off.

“I gotta take a shower before we get out of here. My clients don’t appreciate it when I smell like shit.”


	4. Chapter 4

The ride away from the bar was a blur of sound and color. Dennis felt detached from himself, as though someone else was driving. His body was numb and heavy; it weighed him down. He focused on the speed limit. Forty, fifty, sixty.

“Pull over,” said Dee. Her voice sounded distant. “Pull over now!”

Before Dennis could ask why, Dee started to gag. Dennis was yanked into the present. Not his car –

“Jesus, Dee. Stop!” he cried as he veered sharply to the right lane.

“I can’t –” she said between dry heaves.  Dee rolled down the window.

“Don’t you dare, you bitch!”

Too late. She leaned out of the car, and began violently throwing up all over the side of his beautiful Range Rover. The wind splattered it onto the back window on the right side. Disgusting.

“Goddammit, Dee!” he shouted.

“Dennis, you have to pull over,” she said, hoarsely. “It’s not gonna stop.”

He decelerated, pulled to the side of the road, and put on his hazards. Dee ran out of the car, and began puking again. Dennis opened the hatch of his car to get a towel so that he could wipe the chunks off of the side of his car. When he was done, he closed the hatch, and threw the towel in the general direction of the woods. Some park ranger would clean it up later.

Dee was on the ground now, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest.

“I killed two people,” she said. The world began to return to a state of unreality. Dennis sat down next to her. A wave of heavy exhaustion washed over him.

“Can you have your moral crisis later? We have to go. I’m losing my adrenaline rush fast,” said Dennis. Dee gave him a confused look.

“Moral crisis? You think that’s what this is about?” asked Dee.

“Well, all of the smeared puke on my car is clearly about something,” said Dennis.

Dee tucked her head in between her knees. “It’s just such a serious crime. That’s life in prison, Dennis.” She looked up at him. Her hands were shaking. “I’m only 23!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you –” said Dennis.

 _Murdered them_. The pneumonic words settled in his lungs.

“I just got so hot. . .” said Dee.

Dennis stood up, and held out his hands to help her do the same.

“We have to keep going.”

________

The motel room Dee and Dennis had checked into was a real dump. The beds had mysterious stains on the comforters, the couches looked like they had been clawed, and the carpet had bits of glass strewn all over it. They had tried to get a nicer hotel, of course, but this was the only place in a twenty-five mile radius that took cash and didn’t ask questions.

Dennis was pacing back and forth, back and forth across the room. His chest was puffed out authoritatively in a sign of dominance. Typical for him to be a control freak in a situation that had nothing to do with him.

“We’re going to have to escape to Canada,” he said.

Dee took a stale Cheeto out of her bag, and ate one. It wasn’t great, but it was better than the taste of vomit that lingered in her mouth.

“I’m not doing that,” she said. Dennis gave her a confused look.

“Why not?” said Dennis.

Dee shook her head, and ate another Cheeto.

“This isn’t the movies, Dennis,” said Dee. She sucked some of the fake cheese off her fingers. “Driving across the border to Canada isn’t going to save our skin.”

Dennis sighed. “Fine, if you’re so resistant to Canada, we’ll drive to Mexico. It’s a lot farther, but -”

“How are you not understanding this?” said Dee. “I don’t want to be an international criminal.”

Her brother grabbed a chair, turned it around, and sat on it backwards. He rested his chin on top of the back. For the first time since the murder, Dee got a look at his eyes. His pupils were blown out, swallowing their natural blue. He was more stressed than his false confidence was letting on.

“Fine. Since you’re so resistant to mine, what’s your brilliant plan?” he asked.

“We dispose of the gun, and we go home as if nothing happened,” said Dee.

Dennis shook his head, and rubbed at his ear. A nervous habit. “That’s not gonna work. Atlantic City is murder central. They definitely had cameras pointed at us."

“How’s this,” said Dee. “We watch the news tomorrow morning. If we’re on it, then we figure out a complicated plan to get out of this. If not - we just go home.”

She crumpled up her empty wrapper, and threw it at the trash. It landed perfectly into the can. Her only win so far tonight.

“I don’t like it, but I think it’s all we can do,” said Dennis.

Dee sighed, and got up from her chair.

“I gotta take a shower.”

“Wear flip flops,” said Dennis. “That shower is coated with the filth of ages.”

Dee gave him a thumbs up, and slipped them on. The last thing she needed was to have athlete’s foot while she was on the run from the law.


End file.
